Broken Hearts, Lost Hopes, Ended Lives

The sound of water dripping from the fountain every 3 seconds was scratching his brain. He went to the washroom in a fussy and panicky mood and squeezed the fountain with all his might. He looked in the mirror in the sink, her face scratched and her hair messy. At that moment, the fountain again dropped the water drop into the sink, blushing at the sound, and slammed his hand on the fountain. Just then, he saw the scratches and cuts on his hand. His hands were bleeding, but he had no idea what had happened. He couldn't make any sense of it.

He opened the fountain and held his hands under the running water. He was looking at himself in the mirror. His eyes looked like they were going to pop out. He couldn't make sense of the strangeness of his situation, trying to remember what had happened. Quickly and hastily, he washed his hands by rubbing them thoroughly, and splashed the water on his face. After washing her face several times, she wiped the mess by running her wet hands through her hair.

He took the towel to dry himself and pressed it against his face. With the towel on his face, he was thinking; what do i have? What happened to me? Damn why can't I remember anything?

He collected himself for a moment, it was good to wash his hands and face. He looked through all the rooms in the house, he didn't know what he was looking for or who he was looking for. But he was controlling he.

He finally came to the kitchen. Table and counter are covered in dishes, everywhere is dirty. There was a foul odor, although it wasn't too bothersome. He knew that the place he was in was his home, but he could not form an idea of ​​how it became this way, and when he thought to remember it, it seemed to disappear. He sat in the chair in front of the staff with blank eyes. "I must remember, I must find out what's going on," was said over and over in a voice so low that only he could hear. The more he tried to think, the more he was suffocating, his anxiety, anger, and uncertainty increased.

With a sudden decision, he got up from his chair. He carried the dishes on the table to the sink along with those on the counter. He noticed that his hands were shaking as he carried the plates, but he didn't want to think anymore. He washed the dishes quickly and hastily, as if he had to catch up somewhere. The foul smell was replaced by the smell of cleanliness. Even though the fountain in the sink was still dripping water, his voice didn't scratch his brain, he didn't even notice the sound.

He realized that he was hungry and needed something to eat. It was returning to normal. He looked for something to eat in the refrigerator, but couldn't find it. He took out 3 eggs and butter. The only meal he could make on his own was an omelet. Others had no idea how it was done. He didn't know how to cook, he only knew how to eat ready meals. He was a messy player of a messy life. Like a miserable creature that has lost everything it has.

He added the butter to the egg pan first. While the butter was melting, he broke the eggs into a bowl and whisked them with salt. His mood was slowly coming back. The cuts on her hands hurt while he was scrambling the egg, but she didn't care. He poured the egg over the melted butter. When it was six, he turned the egg over and cooked the other side. A great omelet was ready. He chopped tomatoes next to him and placed them on the table. As soon as he sat on the chair and began to eat, he realized that there was no bread. He chuckled and laughed. He was constantly smiling. Before the end of his laughter, the other started and he continued to laugh in an increasing tone. Finally he remembered something. When we left in the morning, there was no bread in the house. He had been told to pick it up on the way back. His laughter began to fade when tears began to flow from his eyes. This time he was sobbing.

He slumped down from the chair he was sitting in. He continued to cry, leaning against the wall with her knees bent. He put his head between his knees and wept for minutes, sobbing and sobbing. The tears flowing from his eyes mixed with the liquid from his nose, wetting his shirt. Maybe he hadn't cried this much in his life. Moreover, he was experiencing two opposite emotions in a short time, which was to laugh first and then cry. He took control of his breathing and began to gather himself; He heard a knock on the door.

-Open the door, Police. We know you're home, Tomy, open the door or we'll break it down.

The sound of water dripping from the fountain began to scratch his brain again.

To be continued.

Thank you for reading.